A Plot Twist
by xBrokenStars
Summary: John walks in on Sherlock doing something unexpected. He also realizes that their relationship isn't what they'd like it to be. Johnlock.
1. Interest

"By the way, we're out of milk." Sherlock pointed out randomly.

"Alright... would you like me to get some?" John replied.

"Yes, that would be good. And also I have a grocery list for you. Texted it to you."

John sighed. Once again, Sherlock was sending him out so he could stay at home and think or whatever it was he did with his spare time.

* * *

"I'm back." John called out, receiving no reply. Sherlock? Are you home?" He had only gone to the grocery store half an hour ago and of course his flatmate was nowhere to be found. He wondered briefly if Sherlock happened to discover a new case and run out the door without calling him. He did have the tendency to do that. Oh, he was probably doing some strange experiment. Hopefully he wouldn't find a head in the refrigerator this evening.

John put the groceries away, thankfully not finding any gruesome things in the kitchen, then laid down on the couch. He flipped aimlessly through television channels, but there was nothing interesting on. For once he thought he might understand how Sherlock felt. Boring! He would say to express how simple most humans' lives were. Oh, Sherlock, John smiled to himself at the thought of his strange friend. Was he a friend? I suppose they would be called that. Most people out in public assumed they were a couple, but... no. John convinced himself time and time again that Sherlock had no feelings for him- or anyone at all, for that matter- of the romantic sort. Even Sherlock had said it, John was his only friend. Nothing more, though.

The stupid show that was on went dark and silent as John clicked the remote. He sighed. Where in the bloody apartment was Sherlock?

John stood up, wincing a bit as pain shot through his leg. It had gotten better recently though. He ignored his leg and went on to wander around.

The first thing he noticed was that Sherlock's door was shut. That was odd. Sherlock rarely ever went in his room except to sleep (occasionally), much less closed the door.

He heard a sound that made him quite curious to find out what was going on.

John quietly turned the knob to reveal something he never would have expected.

Sherlock was laying on the bed, completely naked. His eyes are closed with pleasure. A soft gasp escapes his lips, followed by a deep moan.

Meanwhile, John watches, entranced. He knows he should leave, but it's far too intriguing. He always thought Sherlock was asexual. But this proves something completely different.

Sherlock begins to stroke himself faster now, and he still has no idea that John is in the doorway, and it's all so much to take in. John has to bite his lip to keep from making a noise.

"Oh... fuck." Somehow it comes off as incredibly erotic when Sherlock says this. John's eyes widen and his breath hitches.

He's stroking himself even faster now, his body arches up, he begins softly moaning again, and all of a sudden...

"John!"

His eyes flash open a second afterward.

"Why... are you here? I thought you were at the store." Sherlock's voice sounded incredibly deep and sexy.

John tried to ignore the fact the a very attractive, naked man was laying on the bed about 5 feet away from him. He slowly backed away from the door frame. That would be embarrassing if Sherlock happened to see the bulge in his pants.

"I- I'm sorry. I came home and didn't know where you were. I'll be leaving now.' John stuttered, his face blushing brighter with each word.

How the hell did he do that? Sherlock didn't seem embarrassed in the slightest. It was as if John had simply walked in when he was fully clothed. And besides, John hadn't even guessed that he would have seen that. Sherlock, jacking off? John couldn't help but shake his head and smile a bit. That was Sherlock. You thought you knew him, but then came something completely unpredictable.

The only problem was, while Sherlock was laying on his bed satisfied, John now had a problem.

After seeing that, of course, he was incredibly horny. But he didn't want Sherlock to know that he had been watching him for a while, or that it had turned him on. Oh, fuck it, he decided. Sherlock deduced everything he could about everyone. He probably already knew what John was thinking right now.

Making that decision, John stripped and laid down on the bed. He tried to think about some of his old girlfriends, but the image of Sherlock haunted his mind. And it was quite a nice image, he had to admit.

John began to stroke himself, shamelessly thinking of his flatmate. There was no way Sherlock knew what he was thinking, right?

Soon his mind traveled to fantasies. Sherlock jacking in the shower, Sherlock pushed against the wall, Sherlock sucking him off, Sherlock bent over his desk.

John moaned, perhaps a little too loudly. If Sherlock heard, he didn't comment.

But that was when John heard footsteps toward his room. He frowned slightly in annoyance. Couldn't Sherlock deduce what he was up to and leave him alone? Whatever, he told himself. He didn't stop- after all, he had just caught Sherlock in the act.

The door creaked open. "John." Sherlock breathed softly.

"Go away, can't you see I'm in the middle of something?" John paused to be angry at Sherlock for barging in.

"Oh, I've noticed that." he said, and John couldn't help but notice just how attractive he was, especially with those gorgeous eyes luring him in, "I just wanted to ask if I could help you."

_Reviews would be lovely! I'm planning to continue this, and Sherlock and John's relationship will definitely take a plot twist in this story._


	2. Explanation

My mouth gaped open as I realized just what Sherlock meant. Surely that wasn't it. Yet here he was, standing right outside my room, asking me something I had only dreamed of. This was just so uncharacteristic of him. Well, considering recent events... Still, it was hard to believe this wasn't just a dream.

I switched back and forth from my thoughts to the reality of him standing a few feet away. My mind was racing, attempting to find words for my response. I knew I wanted this, but was that all? Or did I want something more from him? Something more, like a deeper relationship. Not just friends with benefits. I looked into those ocean colored eyes and realized the answer to the most important question I had asked myself in a while was... yes. But I had to make him fall in love with me first.

His question still rang in my ears. The offer was so tempting. I could do this and get it over with, and things would go back to normal. Of course that was a lie. We wouldn't just do something like this and forget all about it. I just know it wouldn't happen. In this situation, it was either all or nothing. I chose nothing, for now.

"No." I said firmly.

His expression changed to one of slight confusion. I understood perfectly. I mean, I had just walked in on him masturbating and then he comes in my room to find me doing the same thing. Obviously, I wanted him. I just couldn't bring myself to accept the offer yet. I didn't want to have sex once and then lose all interest. That was why. I didn't want to lose him.

He turned around, walked away, and closed the door behind him without a word.

Back in the privacy of my room, I sighed with relief. I could finish myself off, then figure out my relationship with my flatmate.

Ten minutes later...

A thought hit me. What if he couldn't see the way I felt about him? Knowing Sherlock, he was always so confused by the emotions of humans. Likely, he wouldn't realize that just because I had rejected this one offer, didn't mean I had rejected him. _Oh no._ That was it. He probably thought I hated him now.

My suspicions were right. I found him curled up on the couch, a teardrop making its way down his face.

I grimaced at the thought that I was the one to blame for not explaining it. Well, here goes the explaining part.

"Sherlock."

He made a faint noise, acknowledging that he was awake.

"I'm sorry. When I said no, I didn't mean it could never happen. The only thing I meant is that I don't want that right now. I want to let our relationship progress before we do anything... like that. Is that okay with you?" I told him gently.

No response. I sighed and, acting on a random idea, placed a light kiss on his cheek. He flinched a bit, just from the surprise of the kiss. He wasn't expecting that. Well I wasn't expecting his response either.

Sherlock suddenly sprang off the sofa and stared straight into my eyes. "I understand."

I gave him a small smile, and a peck on the other cheek. And with that, I went back to my room.


	3. Shower

"Sherlock!" John yelled, his voice carrying from a couple of rooms away. After waiting a minute with no reply, he stormed into the living room, wearing only a towel.

"Not now, John. I'm busy." Sherlock didn't even bother to glance up at him. He lay on the couch with his eyes shut and fingers on his temples.

John gritted his teeth and waited. Sherlock must be "deleting" as he called it, or organizing the hard drive of his brain and getting rid of unimportant knowledge. This was known to take a while, often about two hours. Right now, he was probably putting all the information he had saved into little specific file folders. John just sighed at the oddness of his flatmate.

Suddenly, Sherlock sat up and gasped, his blue eyes opened wide. Which John took as an invitation to begin talking.

"There's a leg in the shower. Not even a pair, but just one. Why the hell..."

Sherlock barely looked over at him. "Put it there."

"I know you did!" shouted John.'

"Okay... What are you asking?" The sad thing was, Sherlock seemed legitimately confused. As if he didn't realize that a body part lying in the shower would freak out a normal person.

"Oh. You're only wearing a towel." Sherlock finally bothered to glance over at John fully.

John smiled at him in a way that said I-want-to-kill-you-in-your-sleep-tonight. "Great deduction. Not hurry up and get the bloody leg out so I can shower!"

"I can't."

John's mouth gaped open. "What do you mean you can't?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes at having to explain. "Transporting the leg would mess up the experiment. You can just use my bathroom."

"Oh... Alright. Thanks." John was shocked that Sherlock was actually allowing him to shower in the other bathroom. He usually was adamant about not sharing his things, and not having anyone in his room or snooping through his things. Yet he was letting John shower in his bathroom.

When John walked in, he was greeted with a neat, clean appearance. Of course. The inside curtain was a bright white. All the conditioner, shampoo and body wash was grouped together. An exfoliating sponge hung in the corner of the shower.

He turned the faucet onto hot and stepped into the shower, sighing at the warmth and comfort of the water.

There was a knock at the door. "What?" he tried to yell over the noise of the water running.

Suddenly, the knob turned and he heard Sherlock step inside. "I said, do you need anything?"

"Nope. I'm good."

He disappeared off into another room, and John thought out loud, "What was that about?"

This was strange, even for Sherlock. Who had been acting noticeably odd lately. Who knows, John thought. He was dealing with the world's only consulting detective, after all.

**Please review and give me suggestions for the next chapter! Thanks :)**


End file.
